Page 64 of Ravaged
My whispered admission echoes in the kitchen like a shout. Zora slowly lowers her cup to the breakfast bar, and her expression softens.
“You remind me of Cyrus.”
I scoff. “What? No offense, but I think love has pickled your brain. Or maybe good dick has. I like the guy, but I’m nothing like your anal, rule-loving, corporate fiancé.”
“Oh, no offense taken,” she says dryly. “But yes, you are. You both have your ideas and your plans, and they’re set in stone. And once they are, it’ll take an act of God to change them. And I don’t even know about that. You two might look at a burning bush and want to examine the quality of the pyrotechnics and thickness of the bush before calling it a miracle.” Her mouth twists wryly.
I mean, she’s not wrong.
About the burning bush.
But her opinion of me? Oh yeah, she’s way off on that.
“That’s so untrue. For example, I’ve backed off my view of athletes. I let my experience from college color my opinion on all of them. But after spending time with Jordan and then Daniel, I’ve realized I judged them against the behavior of a group of assholes. And I can’t continue to live viewing people through the lens of my anger and hurt. It’s not fair. And I might’ve missed out on getting to have two wonderful men in my life.”
“Oh, Miriam, that’s amazing.” She reaches across the bar top but hesitates at the last second, her hand stopping several inches short of mine. I get it. Ours isn’t a demonstrative family. But maybe that’s another thing we should be changing. I grasp her hand. And squeeze.She smiles, her brown eyes lighting up. “I’m happy for you. Fuck Robert Sampson. And he shouldn’t influence your life—not one more damn day.”
“You’re right.” Revelation dawns on me like the sun that’s beginning to crest in the sky. By letting his actions affect how I interact with people, treat them, and corner a part of myself off from them, I have been allowing Robert to impact my life. And that sickens me.
And it stops today.
He no longer has any power over me.
Oh hell, that’s freeing.
“You’re still wrong about the other stuff, though,” I breathe.
She laughs, flipping our hands and returning my squeeze. “Hear me out. Maybe the reason Jordan scares you when none of the other guys you’ve dated, including Daniel, have is because he threatens those ideas you have, those plans. And I’m not talking about the moratorium on athletes. I’m referring to the one on relationships. On commitment. You think I haven’t noticed how you never let yourself get too close, get too invested in a person? To an extent, you’re even like that with me and Levi. Almost as if there’s a line drawn, and that’s as close as people are allowed to come. And if they dare try to cross? You shut them down. Cut them off.”
I shake my head. “That’s not true—”
“It is. I grew up in the same house you did. Had the same example of relationships. Learned about what marriage, relationships, shouldn’t be. Then sought out the very men who ended up leading me into what I witnessed growing up. You, Levi, me. We’re all fucked up in some way. We just have to make the decision if we’re going to stay that way.” She releases my hand and cradles her cup of coffee, staring down into it. “I want so much more for you, Miriam. You deserve everything.”
You should have everything you want. I’d give it to you if I could.
Jordan’s voice echoes in my head.
“He believes in love, Zora. In the happily ever after.” I chuckle, and it’s almost ... breathless. Definitely incredulous. “That’s what’s scary about him. He could make me believe too,” I murmur.
“What’s so bad about that?” Zora smiles, and it’s small but full of so much joy it’s almost luminescent. “What’s so bad about letting someone else carry the burden of having faith until you catch up? Let me tell you; I’ve had a long, good look at Jordan Ransom’s shoulders, and he looks like he can bear that weight pretty damn easily. And he wouldn’t mind it either. As a matter of fact, I think it would be his pleasure to do it.”
“And if he can’t? If he ... won’t? What then?”
“But what if he will?” she counters softly.
She’s asking me to take a chance. Like she did with Cyrus. She can encourage me to step out there, to take the risk because hers worked out. But I’m not that brave.
If I’d paid attention to what I saw growing up, then I never would’ve made the perfect naive victim for Robert Sampson. Adhering to the rules, standing behind the barriers Zora accused me of having in place, has kept me safe, protected. I haven’t been anyone’s fool since then.
And though Jordan offers me a place to be myself and makes my body sing, I can’t leap for him. The past has shown me no one will be there to catch me.
“Since you’re here, you can wait until I get dressed. I’ll ride into work with you, and we can go to breakfast. Your treat.”
Zora studies me, and I hold my breath because she looks like she’s not going to let this subject go. But then she nods.
“Hurry up. I need to go home, shower, and get dressed first. I can’t meet clients in sweats and bedhead.”
I head out of the kitchen, and as my foot hits the bottom step, I pause and glance over my shoulder.
